Defiant (15 page)

Amazement washed over him as he ran his hand across the tiny bumpy scales of carved dragon and then flipped through the pages. Why had she carried it? What did it mean? He turned to shake her awake, to demand answers.

“Search the cave!”

“There, my lord!”

Hooves beat the ground, snapping twigs and crunching leaves just outside the entrance.

Jared snapped to a sitting position, tucked the small book inside his pouch and grasped his staff. His fingers found the familiar place where the dragon’s tail wrapped around the wood.

Aeliana cried out and Gwyneth lurched awake, a confused and dazed look in her eyes.

“Where am—”

“Shh,” he admonished, touching his finger lightly to her lips. From the sounds, he guessed that there were at least four or five men and he needed all the advantage he could muster. “Wha—”

He clamped his palm over her mouth.

Gwyneth shuddered as Jared’s hand pressed her lips into her teeth. Yesterday’s nightmarish events flooded her mind. She tried to sit up, to scramble backward, to gain some sense of control.

A hand landed on her shoulder, pinioning her to the hard stone floor and effectively stopping her struggles. The light coming in from the front of the cavern was dim. Shadows danced on the walls, monstrously large and terrifying.

Her heart pounded. Not a nightmare, but Hades.

She had landed in the underworld, the realm of a devil with silky dark hair and piercing green eyes. Terrifying. He loomed over her, tall and strong. He wore black breeks and a black tunic. She remembered how easily he had controlled her body before. Lurching upward, she strained to get away.

Nay!” she yelled. She pushed him back and screamed.

“Gwyneth?” a voice called.

Her family?

Horses, men shouting, the thundering of voices and hooves sounded in the forest just outside the cave. Trees rustled. She spun toward the noise.

A small party of men appeared just a stone’s throw from the entrance. The dawn light illuminated them. Montgomery and several of his knights!

She gave a shout of joy. Never in her life had she been thrilled to see her brother-in-law, but his arrival meant that the current situation would be handled. Relief poured through her.

Montgomery sat atop a large black warhorse, his blue eyes flashing. She wished her sisters were also here, but she did not see them among the riders.

“Montgomery! Over here!” Kicking hard against Jared, she scrambled to her feet to race toward her brother-in-law.

Jared’s hand closed around her shoulders afore she could make a step. He tugged her so that her back landed against his chest. “Not so fast, lady wife.”

Stopping, she turned her head, squared her shoulders, and stared down at him even though he was nearly a head taller than her. Too much was at stake; too many women depended on her. Their marriage would have to be annulled. “I thank you for saving my life, but release me or you will regret it.”

Jared’s fingers tightened, indenting her skin.

“What the hell are you doing here, Gwyneth?” Montgomery boomed.

“Let me go,” she demanded.

“Nay.”

“You leave me no choice,” she whispered. Tamping down her guilt, Gwyneth pointed at Jared and called to her brother-in-law, who sat regally atop a tall black mount. “Arrest this man!”

Incredulous, Jared gaped at his wife, who was now flapping her arms frantically in the air. Of all the faithless, underhanded things!

“I’ve been kidnapped!” she called.

The lying little wench. And he had felt tender toward her only moments earlier!

“God save us from female treachery,” he muttered. Drawing the dagger from his belt, he buried his hand in her hair and set the blade against her neck. Her pulse pounded, making her alabaster skin jump.

“Help me!” she yelled. “This man is holding me captive!”

“Silence,” he gritted out, wanting to kick himself for ever feeling any softness toward her. Long ago he had learned that women were faithless and untrustworthy—especially those who were clever or beautiful—and Gwyneth of Windrose was both.

“Explain yourself!” the tall warrior on the black warhorse demanded.

“I’ve been stolen!” Gwyneth interjected.

“'Tis untrue, my lord,” Jared started, intending to talk his way out of the situation.

“He—”

He clamped his hand over her mouth and pressed the blade threateningly against her skin.

Gwyneth closed her lips. But he could still see the gleam of victory shining in her eyes as she stared at the riders. Without the monk to verify his story, he knew he looked guilty despite this scenario being all her fault. His original instinct to take her straight to the town stocks had been right on target. Once he had dealt with the riders, he would follow his initial plan to make her his personal servant for the rest of her life.

“The woman captured me from—”

The leader guffawed. “Of all the beef-witted excuses. Get away from her. ”

The rising sun, orange and round, glinted off their horses’ flanks. There were four in all: the tall leader who wore a hood, a shorter man with silver spurs, one who appeared to be his squire, and Irma, who rode behind the squire.

Irma! Another betraying woman. The harlot rode very stiffly, bouncing like a rigid plank and looking somewhat terrified, as if she might tumble from her mount at any moment. Her toes were curled, her yellow scarf hung askew, and Jared suspected that she’d never been atop a horse afore.

Except for Irma, all were heavily armed with swords and daggers. One even carried a crossbow.

They crowded toward the cave’s entrance.

Gwyneth tried to bite his fingers.

Jared clamped his hand harder over her mouth and yanked her close to him so he could use her as a hostage.

Her cry died in her throat and a shudder ran through her. Good.

He sized up the men. Fighting three at once, especially one as large as the leader, would be difficult, but he had done such afore.

Tautness formed under Jared’s shoulder blades.

“I know how this looks, my lord. Allow me to explain.”

Gwyneth squirmed, trying to wriggle his palm from her mouth.

“Be still. You will not get away with this,” he whispered into her hair. Lavender and innocence assailed his nostrils.

A pox on women! Was there nothing about them that was truthful and honest? She should have smelled like something as rotted as her conscience, but even her scent was deceptive.

“Away from her,” one of the men called, drawing a long, wicked-looking knife.

“Harm her, and you will die.”

Jared braced his legs wide apart, readying himself for battle as he tilted her head farther to one side. “The woman is mine. Do not come closer.”

“Jared?” the leader asked, a baffled tone coming into his voice. His hood slid off his head, revealing the dark features and brilliant cobalt eyes of James Vaughn.

James?

Jared blinked, not believing his eyes.

In their younger, wilder days, the two of them had ridden the high seas together. Jared had been fighting the demon of Colette’s memory and he suspected James was fighting something as well. Both of them had been too drunk to get around to telling their stories to each other, but there had been an instant connection between the two men.

“James? What the devil?” He didn’t release Gwyneth. Likely this was some new womanly trick of hers. Had James been in love with her? Her beauty was such that she had only to toss her pretty head and men would be willing to race to their deaths for her.

“Jared!” James called.

Gwyneth shuddered. Wide-eyed, she glanced from one man to the other. Not a trick then, perhaps. She seemed genuinely surprised that the two of them knew each other.

Unsure of his old friend’s relationship with her, Jared braced himself. She was his and he would not release her.

The other two looked back and forth at each other, clearly unsure what to make of this new development. Jared did not know what to make of it either.

“What are you doing here?” James urged his majestic black stallion forward. He didn’t smile.

“I could ask you the same,” called Jared, trying to assess their relationship. Was there longing in Montgomery’s eyes? Jealousy? If he took the knife from Gwyneth’s neck, would his friend embrace him or kill him on the spot? He could not tell.

“I’m here to"—he gazed from Gwyneth to Jared and back again with a hard stare—"rescue my sister-in-law from her own folly.”

“My new wife, Gwyneth, is your sister-in-law?” Of all the bedlamite things. He pushed aside the sharp sense of relief that Gwyneth and James were not betrothed.

“Aye.” James let out a bark of laughter. His horse twitched its tail restlessly. “You married
Gwyneth
?”

The mocking way he asked sent a shot of indignation through Jared. “Aye.”

James’s gaze raked over Gwyneth. “What evil deed did you do to deserve
that
punishment?”

Unbidden, anger washed over Jared—the same as he had felt years ago when Rafe had been disrespectful to her. He released her mouth and glared at his former friend.

James pointed at Gwyneth. “No man in his right mind would want
her
for a wife.”

“I have had dozens of offers for marriage,” Gwyneth said defensively.

“And you’ve spurned all of them,” James said, placing one hand on his hip while holding the reins with the other.

She lifted her chin, but pinkness tinged her cheeks. Embarrassment?

“I want her as a wife,” Jared interjected, coming inexplicably to Gwyneth’s defense before James could make another mocking laugh.

James looked pointedly at the knife that Jared held at Gwyneth’s neck. “So you kidnapped her?”

“I want no husband at all!” Gwyneth said afore Jared could answer the charge. He felt her quiver against his chest. “Release me.”

James gave Gwyneth a scornful glance. “No matter my personal feelings, I am here to protect my sister-in-law. Step away from her. ”

Jared felt her body sag against him as she let out a sigh of relief.

“Best to do as he says. “ The smirk was back in her voice.

So much for defending her,
he thought sourly. Women were a treacherous lot, to be sure.

He gazed from his old friend to his wife and tightened his grip on the knife. The need to conquer snapped through him like a whip.

“The woman is mine,” he growled. “She wanted me so much that she stole me from The Bald Cock. ”

Mortification poured through Gwyneth, and her palm itched to cover his mouth—only she could not move so long as he held a knife to her throat. Her neck ached from Jared’s hold, and her body felt stiff from yesterday’s events.

“I didn’t want you. I want no man.”

“You did not mind sleeping near me last night.”

One of Montgomery’s men moved forward. Finally. At last they would stop their gawking and see to getting her free from this situation.

She cringed as she felt Jared’s hand tighten on the dagger at her neck. She wrapped her hands around his wrist. The crisp hair on his forearm tickled her palms. Her little finger throbbed from where the attacker had twisted it in the alley yesterday. The man Jared had rescued her from.

“Do not be beef-witted,” she hissed. “If you kill me, you will never get away from here alive.”

In answer, Jared turned both of their bodies until his back was fully protected by the wall of the keep and she was spun around to face him. The hard, flat blade of the knife pressed against her back and his hand fisted in her hair.

Gooseflesh popped up on her legs. “Cease!”

His green eyes flashed and her head was forced back at an angle that made it difficult to swallow. Giving a warning look at Irma and James, forbidding them to move forward, his lips crashed down on hers. Claiming her.

“Wha—” she tried to say, but his mouth dominated hers in a punishing bid for possession. The world swirled under her feet as her reality tilted. He wanted to kiss her?

She tensed, then willed herself to relax as she realized he would do naught to harm her. The instant she softened, so did Jared. His lips became tender against hers, gentle even. Deep inside, low in her belly, sensation stirred. A wanting.

Of its own accord, her body seemed to press closer to him, enjoying the feeling of being his. As if she knew by some primal instinct that he didn’t intend to hurt her.

She jumped back, startled by her emotions, startled by her own actions. Jared didn’t stop her from pushing slightly away from him, though his fist still held in her long hair.

Blushing furiously, angry with herself for responding at all to Jared’s kiss—how could she!—she faced her brother-in-law. Montgomery was scrutinizing her with a disapproving look. She unfocused her eyes, too mortified to even glance at Irma. Irma didn’t kiss men. Ever.

Jared laughed.

He knew! Knew she had been affected by his lips. The dagger was slack in his hand, no longer pressing against her back, and she realized it had been a show, a proof that she belonged to him.

Faith, how could her body betray her thus?

“I hate you,” she hissed.

“For certes,” he said drolly. “And you are still mine. As wife or hostage.”

Horrified, she turned to Montgomery, wishing she could somehow run and hide. She tried to bring her hands up to hide her stinging, swollen lips from the damning gazes of the small crowd, but Jared forced her hands downward, caught like a bug on a string. How could she have surrendered to a kiss? Had she no wits at all? She didn’t even like the man!

“You chose me,” Jared reminded her.

Irked at his high-handed arrogance, she longed to reach for the dagger, to try to turn it against him.

The fire in Montgomery’s blue eyes bespoke ill tiding. As if he was ready to slay them both. “The harlot"—he pointed at Irma—"says that you stole my sister-in-law from a brothel.”

“'Tis true,” Gwyneth rushed out before Jared could speak. “I went to visit my friend and this man kidnapped me.”

Jared’s green eyes flashed at the lie. “The two women drugged me—”

At that moment another man rode forward, this one with a foppish hat and long, pointed shoes. Unlike Irma, he was a good rider. A long, thin sword hung at his belt.